


A Loquacious Lothario's Curse

by lindianajones



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Body Image, Chubby Jaskier | Dandelion, Curses, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindianajones/pseuds/lindianajones
Summary: After a one night stand Jaskier finds himself cursed. Although the curse is not deadly, it will cause him to gain weight every time that he speaks. Will they break the curse? Jaskier hopes so because he’s not sure how long he can actually stay quiet!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 170





	A Loquacious Lothario's Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first drabble, so please be nice. I would like to thank my beta, Jmjd, for all of the editing that was done for this piece. If this is not your type of fic, please don't comment. If you like it, hit that kudos button!

Jaskier knew that he had a _tiny_ proclivity for getting into trouble. It wasn’t his fault that men and women were naturally attracted to him! He had an innate ability of talking himself out of trouble, using his natural charm to dance through life with few, if any consequences, and honestly, that suited Jaskier. That would explain how he once again had found himself in another bed with another woman shouting accusations at him.

The night had started like any other. Jaskier was playing his lute at a local tavern while Geralt had disappeared into the night to fulfill a contract. Whilst playing his lute, Jaskier felt a pair of eyes boring into him. Looking up, he saw an incredibly handsome man lustfully staring at him from across the room. The man was exactly Jaskier’s type: arms the size of his head, tall, and with a chiseled jaw. At the end of his performance, Jaskier approached the man and said, “What a rare beauty you are. Why don’t I buy you a drink and then you allow me the pleasure of drinking in your beauty in the privacy of my room?”

The handsome man smirked and said, “How could I refuse such a delightful offer?” As the night pressed on, Jaskier found that this man’s name was Alexei. He was married. While this did not surprise Jaskier, the man assured him that his wife was a real witch who did not show interest in him anymore. Well, how could he allow such a lovely man to feel unwanted?

They retired to his room and started exploring each other's bodies. Alexei was about to enter Jaskier when the door blew off of its hinges. Alexei jumped off of the bed in shock, but Jaskier remained, under the impression that Geralt was just upset that he had used their quarters to have sex again. “Geralt! You could have knocked!”

A young woman with bright red hair and a fierce glare swept in. “Ah-ah, bard, I am not your witcher. However, it seems that you have found my louse of a husband to be a sufficient replacement for your unreturned affections.”

Jaskier immediately leapt out of bed, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt in one swift movement. He turned towards Alexei and frantically whispered, “When you said that your wife was a witch I thought it was a metaphor!”

Alexei shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I _did_ say that I was married to a real witch!”

Sighing, Jaskier looked and assumed his most charming smile, cautiously approaching the terrifying woman in front of him. “My dear lady, I am most sorry for the confusion. If I had known that this man was married to such a lovely gem, I would have denied his advances immediately, but as I am now aware, I shall take my leave.” Jaskier attempted to dash around the witch and out the door, but she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, her small body much stronger than he had anticipated.

Pulling him towards her face, Jaskier gulped, feeling the unmistakable power that filled the room. “I have heard of you. The famous bard, Jaskier, wandering through the lands, leaving a stream of satisfied lovers and their brokenhearted partners behind. Quite the Lothario, but you should learn to hold your tongue!” Letting him go, she contorted her hands into an unfamiliar position while whispering in Elder. Immediately, Jaskier was slammed against the wall, pinned down by the power of her chaos. Smirking she said, “I think that by taking care of you, I will be doing several people on the Continent a favor.”

Jaskier took a shaky breath and replied, “Well, that’s debatable, fine lady. I travel with a Witcher, and Geralt would be quite cross if he were to return and find me dead.”

The chuckle that escaped the witch’s lips sent a cold shiver down Jaskier’s spine. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the worst before she said, “Oh I will not be killing you bard! That’s far too easy of a punishment. No, this will ensure that you will stay out of already warm beds and will be a punishment worse than death for one as vain as you.” With those words, the witch spoke once more, and Jaskier lost consciousness.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Waking to the bright morning sun, Jaskier blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes. Looking around the room, he found no traces of broken doors and found Geralt on the bed beside him. “Huh, it must have been a dream,” thought Jaskier, calming himself down. He promptly looked over at Geralt and hit his face with a pillow to awaken him from his slumber.

Geralt's eyes snapped open with a confused growl. “The fuck? Why are you awake? You never rise before me,” he growled.

Jaskier barely held back the dirty joke he wanted to make and replied, “Geralt, when you came in last night was there any sign of a struggle?”

Geralt immediately became more alert, glaring at his travel partner. “What did you do?”

“Well that’s just it, I honestly do not know if I _did_ anything. It was such a vivid nightmare, Geralt! There was this insane witch and her husband…”, and Geralt began to prepare for the day while Jaskier babbled on about his crazy non-adventure. As they left town later that morning, what they did not notice was the small figure watching the two of them with a smirk on her face.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“We should make camp,” Geralt announced several hours later. Nodding in agreement, Jaskier followed the Witcher towards a small clearing in the woods. When he sat on a rock, Jaskier frowned, because his pants were feeling a bit snug. Jaskier peeled off his doublet and was confused to see that his stomach seemed softer than it had that morning at the inn. “Huh,” thought Jaskier, “maybe old age is finally catching up to me. I’ll just have to stop drinking so much ale.” Putting his thoughts to the side, Jaskier set to building the fire while Geralt hunted.

Unfortunately the problem arose again the next day, when upon stopping for the night Jaskier realized that he might need to unbutton his doublet to sit comfortably. Looking down at his stomach, he noted that he seemed to have put on even more weight. “Ooookkaaayy, Geralt! I need your help with something.”

Geralt walked towards Jaskier with an annoyed look on his face. “What is it? I need to start hunting if we want to eat tonight.” Looking down at Jaskier, he frowned and tilted his head to the side, “Umm Jaskier…”

Jaskier was blushing, “Geralt, I don’t think that my encounter with the witch was a dream.” He grabbed the fat accumulating there, giving it a small jiggle.

Geralt cleared his throat, appearing uncomfortable at the situation. “Is it possible that you are just getting fat?”

Jaskier guffawed and spluttered in outrage. “How dare you! Are you trying to hurt my feelings Geralt? I might be getting older, but that doesn’t explain how this happened so quickly!”

Geralt looked down at Jaskier, whom he had seen naked two days prior in their room. He had put on a noticeable amount of weight in two days, which was definitely not normal. “Jaskier, calm down. Tell me everything you remember about what happened.”

Jaskier began to describe the evening to Geralt in great detail, trying not to leave out a single piece of information. At the end of the story Geralt put a hand over his eyes, looking chagrined and exhausted. “So she said that you should learn to hold your tongue and that she would prevent you from being a homewrecker?”

Jaskier turned red with embarrassment and replied, “You don’t have to use that awful term, but yes that’s the gist of it.”

Geralt sighed, “Well, congratulations. Your dick has gotten you cursed. Honestly, I’m not surprised at this point.” Turning towards the campfire, Geralt retrieved his swords and his sharpening tools.

“A - a curse? Geralt, what kind of curse? Am I dying?”

Geralt smirked. “No, but I would shut up if I were you Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and spat back, “Oh yes, please be incredibly rude to your best friend in the world who has been cursed, you absolute…” Jaskier’s tirade was cut off by Geralt placing a hand over his mouth.

“I said, ‘shut up’, Jaskier! It’s a simple curse. Everytime you speak you put on weight, so the less you speak, the less weight you gain, got it?”

Geralt removed the hand covering Jaskier’s mouth. The bard immediately screamed “What?!”, gasped, and covered his own mouth in horror.

Turning back to his swords, the witcher smirked and said, “Yes, that’s the spirit Jaskier. Don’t worry, we will find Yennefer. I’ve heard rumors that she is around these parts.”

Looking dejected, Jaskier sat back down on the log and began to pick at a loose string on his pants. “Okay,” Jaskier thought, “I can stay quiet for a few days, it should be no problem.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

Jaskier had really underestimated his ability to stay quiet, he realized a week later when his trouser button popped off in the middle of the afternoon. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been trying -- he really had been, but sometimes he just forgot that he was cursed and would start composing lyrics under his breath without noticing. The amount of times that Geralt needed to tell him to shut up was truly embarrassing.

His weight gain was also making it harder for him to travel. He had never realized how much easier walking was when he wasn’t carrying extra weight. The first few days, Geralt had to stop ahead and wait for Jaskier to catch up. The day before, Geralt finally sighed in annoyance and said, “Climb up on Roach.” When Jaskier gave him a questioning look, Geralt shrugged and said that the sooner they found Yennefer the better.

When his button had popped off of his pants, Geralt saw it happen. Jaskier had not even noticed that he had been composing under his breath, but when he felt it he immediately clenched his jaw and began wiping his rapidly watering eyes. Geralt just rubbed his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Jask, we will find Yennefer soon.”

After that day, Jaskier was silent more often than not, but Geralt began to notice that when he did speak it was usually to say a self-deprecating comment. If he ever found that witch, Geralt knew that he would kill her for hurting Jaskier in this way, although he realized that she was the one who was wronged. “Smaller portions, Geralt. I don’t need extras,” and “I would start wearing your clothes, but I wouldn’t want my fat arse to tear them.” Geralt was getting sick and tired of Jaskier being so mean to himself. Jaskier was an amazing man and he shouldn’t be torn up over some gained weight.

A few days later, Geralt finally lost it. They were starting their journey and he could feel in their bond that they were getting closer to Yennefer. “Get on Roach. We are almost there.” He waited expectantly, with a hand held out to help Jaskier mount his steed. Lately, Jaskier needed a bit of help to get on the saddle. The bard always blushed a deep red whenever it happened, but Geralt did not mind. He liked helping Jaskier.

Noticing that Jaskier was not moving towards him, he huffed impatiently. “Come on, Jask, we are losing daylight.”

Jaskier made a disgruntled noise. “I shouldn’t be riding Roach.”

Geralt gave him a bewildered look. “Jaskier, we don’t have time for this. We don’t know how dangerous this curse could be, so get on the damn horse.”

Jaskier stomped on the ground, painting the perfect picture of an angry toddler with his chubby cheeks and overall temperament. “Damn it, Geralt! I could use the exercise and I don’t want to hurt Roach.”

Geralt snarled back, “Stop talking! We don’t want the curse to do any more damage. And Roach is a sturdy girl, she can carry both of us without a problem.”

With a derisive laugh, Jaskier responded, “Oh, you mean more damage than it’s already done? The witch got her wish! No one with a brain would want to lay with me, Geralt! I’m a joke! You might as well bring me to the nearest temple to become a priest of Melitele!” Finishing his tirade, Jaskier crumpled onto a nearby stump.

Geralt sighed and walked over to Jaskier. Sitting down beside him, he took his bard’s hand and said, “First, your reputation has spread far and wide Jaskier. I am certain that the priesthood would not accept you into the fold. Second, I must be brainless because I would have sex with you.”

Jaskier turned his head so quickly that Geralt was surprised that the bard had not just given himself whiplash. The surprise the bard felt was evident in his wide, blue eyes and gaping mouth. Unable to resist any longer, Geralt grabbed his softening jaw and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

After a moment, Geralt realized that Jaskier was not reciprocating the kiss, so he pulled back. “Sorry if I misread the situation. I just…” but Geralt was cut off by a searing kiss. Smiling into the kiss, Geralt felt at peace.

Finally, the two men came up for air and stared into each other’s eyes. Jaskier smiled. “We will talk about this when the curse breaks.” With that he grabbed Geralt’s hand and practically dragged him over to Roach.

Later that day the two men found Yennefer. She was surprised to see them. Upon seeing Jaskier she raised an eyebrow and said, “I see that you found the filling for your pies, bard. Maybe a bit too much?”

Jaskier snarled, but Geralt pushed him behind himself. “Yennefer, Jaskier has been cursed by a witch. Can you fix it?”

Arching a delicate eyebrow, Yennefer nodded towards Jaskier. “Does it have to do with his current appearance?”

“Hmmmm yes. He was cursed to gain weight every time that he spoke.”

Yennefer’s face began to twitch, then she burst into laughter. “Yes, that would explain it. I thought that your bard had been a little quiet, but from the looks of him not quiet enough.”

Jaskier gave her a deadly stare and said, “Will you help me or not?”

Yennefer finally calmed herself down and replied, “Of course. It’s a simple and common curse. I should have the ingredients necessary to counteract it."

True to her word, the curse was lifted within the hour. As they left her home, Geralt heard Jaskier whisper, “I’m very grateful for what you have done, Yennefer, but is there any way that you could fix the rest of me?”

Geralt heard Yennefer sigh and reply, “I’m sorry Jaskier, but I cannot help you with that. You’ll have to go about losing it the old fashioned way.”

Geralt could hear Jaskier pouting. “Right, that was what I was afraid you’d say.”

He heard footsteps moving in his direction and then another person grabbing the person walking. “You know, you don’t look too bad with the extra padding. You know, for an old man with crows feet.”

Jaskier huffed out a laugh and replied, “Thank you, Yen.”

Finally returning to Roach, Jaskier looked at Geralt and pointed down the road. “Yen said that there was an inn a few miles that way, if we wanted to stop for the night."

Geralt smiled, glad to hear his voice without worrying for the first time in weeks. “Yes, that sounds good.” Helping him onto Roach, they made their way towards the inn.

Upon entering the establishment, Geralt paid for a room and two meals, leading Jaskier to the corner. Sitting down, he could see Jaskier scanning the room and crossing his arms around himself. Geralt suddenly realized that the clothes that Jaskier were wearing were in tatters and barely clinging to his body. Geralt removed his cloak and handed it to Jaskier, who gave him a grateful look before placing it over his body.

Two bowls of rich, beef stew, that did not smell half-bad, came quickly. Geralt immediately dug into his food, almost missing that Jaskier was barely touching his. Halfway through his own bowl, Geralt took notice of this and made a questioning grunt at his bard.

Jaskier blushed and said, “Oh, it’s just that Yennefer said that I would have to lose the weight the old-fashioned way. I’ll just need to go on a bit of a diet for a few months is all and it’s probably better if I start sooner rather than later.” Looking forlornly at his stew, he took a few small bites and then pushed it away.

Geralt growled and pushed the stew back towards Jaskier. “No. Eat. Now.”

With a blustery huff, Jaskier looked up at the witcher and spat back, “Geralt, I would like to actually fit back into my clothes at some point and be able to walk beside you without getting tired. I would also like the chance to start performing again without running the risk of being laughed off the stage! Why won’t you let me do what I need to do?!” Jaskier was screaming at Geralt by the end of his rant, alerting the surrounding patrons to the argument. Blushing, Jaskier picked himself off his seat and ran as fast as he could up the stairs. Geralt glared around the tavern, cowing anyone who was still staring, and then grabbed Jaskier’s stew to follow him to their room.

Upon entering their room, Geralt saw Jaskier laying on his side in bed, staring at the wall as though it held the secrets to the universe. Sighing, Geralt put down the bowl and started to remove his boots. Geralt hesitated at the next step in the process; he had shared a bed with Jaskier before, but they had not _cuddled_. He knew that they had not talked about their kiss in the woods, but he also knew that Jaskier needed comfort. With that in mind, Geralt slipped onto the bed and laid an arm around Jaskier’s waist.

Jaskier stiffened at the contact, trying to suck in his stomach, but he knew that it was in vain. Sighing Jaskier whispered, “I’m sorry, Geralt. This is all my fault. If I had just kept my dick in my pants none of this would have happened and you wouldn’t be stuck with me like this.” He tried to stop the tears that began pouring down his face to no avail as he spoke.

Geralt kept on holding his bard and replied, “I’m not ‘stuck with you’, because that implies that I don’t want your company. I want your company and I want you, in whatever shape or form.”

Jaskier turned over to face Geralt. “How could you possibly mean that? I’m hideous, Geralt. I look like an overblown balloon that’s about to pop.” Jaskier lamented, continuing to cry over his lost beauty.

Geralt rolled his eyes, because he was trying to be supportive, but Jaskier was not listening. “Oh stop being so melodramatic. You look beautiful as always. I’ve always thought so. I was just unsure as to whether you returned my feelings.”

Jaskier scoffed and replied, “Oh no, I just follow every man I meet in a dimly lit bar for twenty years for fun. Honestly Geralt, it is obvious to everyone on the continent that I am deeply in love with you.” With that, Jaskier fell silent and turned back to face the wall.

Geralt nuzzled into his neck, savoring his scent and the warmth that the bard exuded. “Well, I have always been a bit of a moron about you.”

“Just about me?”, replied Jaskier with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

Geralt chuckled, “Alright, maybe just a moron in general, but I know that I am right about this, about us. I want you by my side for as long as we have together.” Geralt paused for a moment, knowing that his next words would be broaching a tender subject with his bard. “I know that you don’t like the way that you look right now and that’s okay, because I will love you enough for the both of us until you can love yourself again. Regardless, you do need to eat, even if you go on a diet, which you don’t need to.”

Jaskier sniffed his nose and dried his eyes before turning once more. “You really mean that don’t you? You don’t care that I’m fat and old and ugly.”

“I’m older than you, I don’t care how much you weigh, and you could never be ugly to me. I bet I’ll be fighting women and men off with swords when you decide to start performing again,” Geralt replied confidently.

Jaskier cuddled into Geralt’s arms and asked, “Does this mean we get to have sex now?” Geralt could feel Jaskier shiver in anticipation.

Geralt pinned him down with both his arms and his stare, smirking dangerously and growled back, “I think that can be arranged.”

Jaskier laughed wetly and said, “I love you Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt smiled sweetly and bent down to meet him in a kiss. “As do I, songbird.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would be open to expanding this to more than a one-shot. Let me know your thoughts in the comments section below! Thanks for reading!


End file.
